November 16, 2010

• Irreplaceable

  There are some things that happen in life that--not matter how small-- is traumatic enough to make a dent.  I like to think that we can just move on from these incidences, but I also believe that since you've suffered through it, you might as well garner a spiritual application from it.  The previous post was an example of this.  Seriously, in my mind, that bug on my shoulder weighs 10 pounds.  Thunk.  (Shudder.)  Turning it into something otherworldly chips away at its traumatic value.

  With that in mind, the major trauma of this week was the loss of my teddy bear. 

  OK, no, I am not joking.  

  I did not cry. 

  But if I was the crying type, I might've.  Not when I lost it, but when I got it back. 

  It's significant to add that I've had this bear for the better part of my life.  20+ years, to be unexact.  He was pure white when I got him and is now some varying shades of what some might call "dingy gray" but he's going strong.  He and his buddy (older and even more dingy) have been my bedside companions through four states and at least six different houses.  I'm pretty sure that along with all that dinge, he's got some tears that might've soaked into the very marrow of this cotton-stuffed body.  

  I thought I threw him away by accident.  He (yes, I am going use the person pronoun) routinely falls into the trash can next to my bed, and I figured that I'd thrown some tissues on top and not seen him when I went to throw out the trash.  There was no other explanation.  I had looked everywhere that made sense.  

  And really, I didn't expect myself to get upset about it.  I mean, things happen.  Mistakes happen.  Stuff is just stuff.

  Right?

  

  So I got over it.  Even pulled out a replacement.  Not quite the same, but it was alright.  

  And then one day, I was pulling out a comforter for my friend who was staying over, and as I spread it out for her, out tumbles my bear.  I had to explain to her my odd response (I won't tell you what it was, and hopefully neither will she), but only after a few moments of stunned silence. I guess I had wrapped it up in there without knowing it (it's a fluffy comforter) while changing it out.  I will tell you that the closest description of the emotion I experienced when I saw that bear was this:

  I was overjoyed. 

  It took me a bit to process this.  Beyond the fact that a bear could make me feel this way, I've felt this way before.  And here comes the spiritual application.

  When I threw God out of my life, it wasn't quite a mistake.  But it wasn't quite intentional either.  And I'll admit (now) that there was times in my apostasy that I missed Him.  There were times when I wondered where He was (there were times when I wondered what land fill my poor bear was rolling around in.)  When I tried to replace Him with other stuff.  (Some things are irreplaceable.)  

  And when I was reunited with God, I was overjoyed.  So much so that that joy still strikes me now.  He was here all along! The "Hide and Seek" poem (it's in the sidebar) was written specifically about that.  It's a horrible poem, but I think that's mainly because it's been rewritten so many times.  And it's so darn personal.  And because of that, I still like it.  Because I feel it.  

  Furthermore, if there is joy in a house in New Market because of a bear that was lost and found again, how much more is there joy in Heaven for a soul that has returned to the rightful place?  I mean, that joy shocked me.  It's stupid, really, and I feel just as much confessing it, but it was undeniable joy.  A hopeless situation turning out rainbows.  

  I suppose though, that the joy I felt is as equivalent to the joy a stuffed bear would feel when compared to the vastness and intensity of God's joy.  

  I just want to bask in it.  It makes me squirmy and teary and completely speechless at times.  

  Some people say that there is a God-shaped hole in every person's heart, and it is humanity's struggle to fill it.  

  It's not just a God-shaped hole.  It's a God-sized hole.  But He is more than enough.  He'll bust through the seams and not only fill the void but overflow into every other aspect of life.  While the angel choir sings about it. 

  "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”  Luke 19:10

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